If You Don't Have Hope
by kjwalker
Summary: Beth and Daryl escaped the attack on the prison together. Slowly but surely Beth worms her way into Daryl's thoughts, despite his attempts to keep her at arms length. Just when things are starting to get kind of normal on the road, Beth is kidnapped and Daryl is left alone. He must regroup and figure out a way to find Beth before anything horrible happens to her. Bethyl Fluff!
1. Chapter 1

**If You Don't Have Hope**

**A/N: So this is the very first chapter of my very first fanfic. Exciting! I hope all of you enjoy the first chapter (which I know is kind of on the short side) but I'm already working on more chapters :) So before I bore you all to death with my chatter...here we go.**

**Chapter 1**

When I first meet Rick and his group of survivors back on daddy's farm, I never thought that this is where life would have taken us. I never imagined that we would have be forced off of the farm, never imagined that we would have spent seven months out in the open running from walkers, and I definitely never imagined that we would be living in a prison. There are a lot of things nowadays that are hard for me to believe have happened. It's only been a year, but life before all of this seems like a hazy dream; one that everyone is constantly trying to hold on to.

In light of everything that has gone on since the walkers took over, I still try to have hope. Still, my optimism can only go on for so long and, as I stand here clinging to the chain-link fence as the Governor holds a sword to my father's throat, it has all but disappeared. Rick is attempting to negotiate with the sinister man but the words they exchange are lost to me. I watch my father as he kneels there outside of the fence beside Michonne; my heart is pounding harder with every minute passes.

Suddenly, without any hesitation, the Governor reels back Michonne's katana and plunges it into the side of my father's neck. Maggie and I both release a scream as he slumps to the side, blood gushing from his fatal wound. I want to run to him but Maggie holds me where I am. She lifts here gun and motions for me to do the same. We unleash numerous rounds towards the Governor and his followers. Rick, after having unloaded all of his bullets in the direction of the Governor, takes off behind the overturned bus in the field, but not before being shot in the thigh.

"I'm out of ammo!" I shout at Maggie as I back away from the fence.

She looks over her shoulder at me and yells, "Go! I'll cover you!"

Bullets are flying everywhere. The echoing booms of the Governor's tank send shockwaves through my body as I run across the courtyard with Maggie trailing behind me. We make it to the bus where some of our people have taken cover while waiting to evacuate.

"Get these people on the bus," Maggie orders me as she hands me her rifle. I try to argue with her but she cuts me off. "We've all got jobs to do."

A sharp pain rushes through my chest – the kind of pain that is the result of losing someone you love. Maggie quoting what my dad always told us quickly reminds me of what just happened only minutes ago. Instead of letting the crippling pain of his death knock me to my knees, I push off of the bus and begin searching for the children.

I head to the administration building where they were being kept during the outbreak of disease that swept through in the previous days. I barrel through the halls, careful not to slip on the papers scattered all across the floor, and yell for them. The place is deserted. There's no sign of Lizzie, Mika, Carl or Judith in any of the rooms. Assuming that they headed outside to find the bus when the fighting started, I book it back to the courtyard I had originally been in.

My eyes dart around desperately searching for them. Panic is rapidly starting to set in as I bolt in the general direction of the tank. I pause to glance around just as Daryl throws a grenade down the cannon of the tank. My legs lock in an attempt to brace myself for the shudder that rumbles through the ground, but I still am nearly swept off of my feet. As I regain my composure, I spot Daryl standing completely still, holding his crossbow and watching as walkers spill into the prison. I jog over to him and can now see that there is absolutely no hope for saving this place.

"I was trying to find the kids," I tell him. I turn my head to look at him and am met with a pair of sad blue eyes. He knows that the prison is lost and that it is no use to try and find the others.

He begins to shuffle away from me as he says, "We gotta go."

Daryl turns and makes his way through all of the commotion with me right on his heels. We head towards the woods to try and outrun any remaining people of the Governor's or any walkers that catch our scent.

We run and run and run for hours until we can't go any further. Daryl and I collapse to the ground in the middle of a field, our breaths coming out short and hurried, but at least we are still alive. I grant myself a moment to hope and pray that the others made it out safely and not alone. My attention is captured by a flock of birds circling in the sky above us as I think to myself that I have a few new things to add to my list of stuff I never imagined would have happened.

I never imagined we would be forced off of the farm.

I never imagined we would have spent seven months out in the open running from walkers.

I never imagined that we would have lived in a prison.

I never imagined I would watch my father being murdered in cold blood.

I never imagined we would lose the prison.

And I certainly never imagined that I would have ended up alone with Daryl Dixon.

**A/N:**

**Alright, so that's chapter 1. WOO! I hope it was a good read. The next one will be up soon-ish. I wanna hear from you guys! **


	2. Chapter 2

**If You Don't Have Hope**

**Chapter 2**

_ Hey,_

_ I know it's been a while. I'm gonna be honest, I forgot about you. After the farm we were always moving but something happened. Something good. Finally! We found a prison. Daddy thinks we can make it into a home. He says we can grow crops in the field, find pigs and chickens, stop running, stop scavenging. Lori's baby is just about due. She'll need a safe place when it comes. The rest of us, we just need a place to be. _

_ I woke up in my own bed yesterday. My _own _bed, in my own room, but I've been keeping my backpack and my gun close. I've been afraid to get my hopes up- thinking we can actually stay here. The thing is I've been starting to get afraid that it's easier just to be afraid but this morning daddy said something: "If you don't have hope, what's the point of living?" So I unpacked my bag and I found you. So I'm gonna start writing in you again. And I'm gonna write this down now because you should write down wishes to make them come true. We can live here. We can live here for the rest of our lives. _

Had it been days or just hours since we had fled the prison? Time seemed to be continuing on despite the fact that I felt like I was stuck in the same moment that never progressed. Physically, I was sitting by the fire across from Daryl at our camp, but mentally, I was trapped in the moment following my father's death. It kept playing over and over in my head; the swish of the blade, the screams that erupted from our group, and the horrific smile that crossed the Governor's lips as gunfire rang out.

_Did that all happen mere hours ago? _I ask myself but wasn't completely sure.

My knees are tucked against my chest with my arms wrapped around them. I clutch my tiny green journal in my hands, squeezing it tightly so that I feel anchored to something. After rereading some of the entries I wrote since we left the farm, I could feel myself slipping. I wanted to cry, to just curl up on the cold ground and weep for everything and everyone that I had lost since this all began, but I knew I couldn't. I had to be strong because I refused to show my weakness in front of Daryl, who already thought I was nothing but a defenseless kid.

I sat there in the silence, which had yet to be broken, and built up walls in my mind to hold back my emotions. When I was certain that I wouldn't breakdown, I interrupted the deafening silence.

"We should do somethin'" I state, staring at the fire to avoid any possible eye contact with him. When he doesn't respond I repeat myself but make sure my voice sounds strong, determined. I glance over at him and see that he is in the same position as I am, his legs pulled up to his chest, arms slung around them and his eyes glued to the dancing flames.

"We're not the only survivors. We can't be. Rick, Michonne, they could be out here. Maggie and Glenn could have made it out of A-Block." I stare at him intensely, hoping for some kind of sign that he's registering what I'm saying. "They could've. You're a tracker. You can track."

He remains quiet, which is beginning to aggravate me. I stand up, move around the fire and pull my knife out of the ground. I turn to face him and continue on, "C'mon. Sun'll be up soon. If we head out now we can-. Fine!" I start moving in the direction opposite of Daryl, ready to leave. "If you won't track, I will."

I whip around and hastily make my way into the trees, not caring if he follows me or stays behind. Soft shuffling behind me lets me know that Daryl had, indeed, chosen to tag along. A little voice inside of my head reminded me that he would never allow me to go off on my own. He wasn't the kind of man to let a girl like me go unprotected in a world like this one. Sometimes it scares me when I realize just how good a man Daryl Dixon was, especially with the way he had always acted since showing up at daddy's farm.

Light was beginning to flood through the treetops as I march through the woods with Daryl trailing closely behind. I can feel his eyes watching me carefully but I restrain myself from turning around to catch him in the act. Feeling self-conscious, I keep my eyes on the ground to ensure that I don't trip over anything. After a few more minutes I notice Daryl has stopped walking. He is kneeling in front of a trail that branches off of the one we had been following and observing shoeprints in the mud. Quietly, I move closer to him and watch as he starts to track, working out all of the clues. He pushes aside some leaves to get a better idea of how many sets of tracks there are and, finding that there are several, he blows on the leaves to reveal them all.

I glance over his shoulder to get a good look at the trail and speak up. "Could be Luke's or Molly's. Whoever they are it means they're alive."

"Nah. This means they were alive four or five hours ago." Daryl informs me as he stands, his eyes still locked on the imprints.

I glare at him, annoyed by his pessimism. "They're alive."

Pulling my knife out of the sheath, I dart around Daryl and begin following the path that the tracks are on. His words run through my head but I decline to give up what hope I have left of finding our group. Something soft brushes my shoulder quickly followed by a spark of warmth, catching me off guard. My eyes slide to the side and find Daryl walking along next to me, his shirt brushing against me as we go. I continue to stare at where our bodies repeatedly touch, distracting me from watching where I'm going. It isn't until I feel Daryl's strong grip on my arm that I realize that I nearly ran into a tree. Blush erupts across my cheeks and I swiftly avert my eyes to the ground, but not before catching a glimpse of a half-smile form on his lips.

Suddenly Daryl spots some berries lying on ground just off of the trail. He bends down and picks one up, rolling it between his fingers.

"They picked up the pace right here. Got out in a hurry. Things went bad." He drops the berry and looks farther down the trail.

"Wouldn't kill ya to have a little faith." I say, still slightly annoyed with him.

He chuckles a little before responding, "Yeah, faith. Faith ain't done shit for us. Sure as hell didn't do nothin' for your father."

I spin around and glare at him, shocked by his blunt remark. Tears burn in the back of my eyes but I push them away; it's no use crying right now. I can see that Daryl regrets his words as his takes in my reaction. My eyes fall to the ground once again and I turn back to the bush full of berries. I force myself to pick berries in hopes that it will block out the pain that threatens to rip me to shreds.

"They'll be hungry when we find them." I tell him, breaking the awkward silence. A light tap on my upper arm makes me jump. He holds out a black bandana for me to take and wrap the berries in – a peace offering for what had just transpired. I let the berries fall into the center of the cloth, fold the edges in and tuck them away in my pocket. Daryl gives a small nod for me to follow and we carry on down the trail.

Pausing by a tiny tree, Daryl wipes his finger across a leaf and examines it.

"What?" I ask, curious as to what he has discovered.

"That ain't walker blood." He holds out his finger to show me what he has found.

I try to be positive as I reply, "Trail keeps going. They fought 'em off."

He shakes his head and glances at the multiple sets of tracks sunk into the mud. "Nah. There's walker tracks all up and down here. Least a dozen of 'em."

Out of nowhere a branch snaps not too far from where we stand. I jerk my knife out of the holster just as a walker grabs me from behind, pulling me to its chest as it snaps its teeth at me. I twist and turn trying to get free so Daryl can get a clear shot at it. Deciding that a shot is too risky, Daryl lunges to where the walker and I are tangled together and grabs it by the arm. He pulls it off of me with so much force that he tumbles on top of the walker. Quickly he rolls over so that the walker is on top of him and I have a chance to kill it. Gripping my knife tightly in my hand, I lean over the walker and plunge the blade into its forehead. Daryl throws the dead walker off of him and stands, giving me a small nod – his version of a pat on the back.

"C'mon." He says in between his heavy breaths of air. Without looking back, we resume our journey down the path.

I take out my journal after we settle into our camp for the night. Daryl took his usual spot across the fire from me. We haven't spoken a word to one another since the walker attacked us earlier. I was slowly becoming accustomed to the silence that tended to hang between us; the urge to fill the silence with meaningless chatter fading more and more.

Ripping a blank page out of my journal, I throw it into the fire and watch as it burns to ashes. I dig through my plastic bag of things I've found here and there over the past few days until my fingers close around a pen. I tear the cap off with my teeth, place my journal on my knee and write my first entry since leaving the prison. It ends up being a few short sentences rather than a long recount of the events that have happened; it's full of hopes and wishes for the future.

_We're not going to die. None of us. I believe now. I believe for daddy. If this doesn't work, I don't know how I could keep going._

I replace the string around the outside of my journal and cap my pen. Finally I'm beginning to see that Daryl is my best chance – my only chance – finding the others. Without him, I would be lost.


End file.
